


halcyon days.

by rexflame



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, can you IMAGINE yharnam during its prime. bet it was SO COOL, lady maria is a lesbian! and so is my oc!, please ask me about alyssa she's a good girl.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexflame/pseuds/rexflame
Summary: in the heat of summer, before things go wrong.





	halcyon days.

**Author's Note:**

> i really love the idea of this beautiful bustling yharnam, just before the scourge hit its peak. even after the destruction of old yharnam...just imagine it. it's nice and bitter  
> talk to me about bloodborne on my twitter @lukeimyurlin!

summers in yharnam are near-oppressive in their heat - even the church favors rolled up sleeves in the sticky humidity, and the droves of people flocking to yharnam tend to thin during these precious months. indeed, travel at all is a danger to one’s health, and it feels as though any movement could make one dizzy.

 

it’s in this stagnant heat that alyssa finds herself, arms full of varied supplies ranging from gunpowder to groceries, wiping a hand over her forehead as she dodges through crowds, slipping around a corner to lean against a thankfully-cool brick wall. just as she’s catching her breath, looking around to dive back into the flow, a hand settles on her shoulder - and she jumps, shrieks, then laughs. 

 

“oh, maria, it’s only you!”

 

she’s met with a soft smile on the white haired woman’s face, tilting her head back so she can meet green eyes. maria’s hair is tied up higher than normal to combat the weather, and she looks near-vulnerable like that, but offers a hand out to alyssa.

 

“you’ve taken so long - everyone was looking for you,” is what maria says, sluggish like the weather - alyssa beams at her and hands her the lightest of three bags.

 

“well, thank you kindly! it’s a lot, in this heat.” 

 

maria nods understandingly, brushes a strand of hair from her face. alyssa watches her fingers move, watches her tiny huff, and feels her cheeks go red, freckles on her face surely standing out. there’s these moments where she thinks - maria, she’s  _ beautiful  _ \- and then she has to stop thinking before she digs her own grave. 

 

and then they head out, together, alyssa with a flounce of thick dark curls and maria with her quiet but purposeful strides. the silence between them is amicable, and speaking over the crows of yharnam would surely be a struggle regardless, although people part before them when they notice the markings of the church on their clothes, or at least, upon maria’s garb - there was a preference to not wear heavy clothing in this heat, which must’ve been a memo maria missed. and yet she makes it look regal, seems unbothered in the dark clothing and the sunlight, and it makes her seem almost otherwordly. 

 

alyssa stops in the crowds then, watches maria grow distant from her. 

 

(in that moment, she is in love, but she doesn’t know it yet.)

 

yharnam summers shift to a busier autumn, and behind the church there is the frequent sound of metal clashing. it is autumn that finds alyssa with two small swords and a bell around her neck, and it is autumn that finds maria with hair down to her hips and a fighting style like a dance. 

they spar in an open courtyard, sometimes, breathing in the smell of wet leaves, and when one gets stuck in maria’s hair alyssa is on tiptoes to remove it. their noses bump, and laughter is a friend - they can pretend to be innocent in the blood on their hands, even if it still clings to robes and leaves stains on their gloves.

 

it is also autumn that lends itself to being outdoors - it is autumn where alyssa sleeps under trees, or simply watches people, wishes a passing choir a good day and waves to every familiar or unfamiliar face. there are more foreigners now, and this is something she understands, seeks them out to teach them the yharnamite ways when they pass her by. 

 

but favored still is simply reading, finding an interesting text or perhaps something humorous. she dozes off with ‘how to pick up fair maidens’ (a book she’d lifted from the desk of some old man whose name she could never quite keep in her mind and maria was often seen near) and the book falls open in the dirt beside her.

 

she’s woken up by maria looming over her, holding the book in one hand with a hand on her hips - “needing advice?”

 

maria has developed a brash sass over this autumn, come out of her quieter shell, and more often her grins feel conspiratorial. alyssa whines, leans forward and grabs for the book, too short to reach.

 

“it seemed silly!” she protests, finally, leaning back down and rubbing dirt off her dark hands. 

 

“oh, did it?” maria says tauntingly, kneeling down before alyssa, tugging the fabric of her shirt to the side, hair illuminated orange and seeming strangely holy in the fading autumn light.

 

“and what fair maidens may you need help picking up?”

 

(alyssa doesn’t answer that, just tugs her cape over her shoulders and retrieves the book. maria has a good-natured laugh.)

 

in winter, it is too cold to be outside much at all.

 

maria’s hair falls to her bottom, now, when standing, and a little higher when not. she declares she wants it cut one day, to alyssa, when they both sit on their beds, and hands her scissors and a brush. alyssa runs hands and a brush through maria’s hair while she sits in a rickety old chair, full of patience, a woman who is ready to face the world in ways alyssa may never be.

 

she frames maria’s face with bangs and trims it to mid back, and ties a dark bow into her hair. maria smiles at her reflection, her eyes glow bright, and she tilts her hair back to alyssa.

 

“it was you -” alyssa blurts, suddenly overcome, and maria seems nothing but confused.

 

“the fair maiden i’d’ve needed to know how to, ah, well, pick up. it’s you.”

 

maria has soft hands, when they reach up to touch alyssa’s cheek, uncalloused by weapons and metal if only due to gloves, and a softer feeling still when she tugs alyssa down to touch their lips together, beautiful and warm and chasing away the chill of winter. 

 

“it took you long enough,” maria smirks, and alyssa fumbles for words and reaches for maria’s hand and squeezes it.

 

(she keeps some of maria’s hair from that day in a locket, and maria knows it. they cannot give each other their blood, but this is what they can do.)

 

the start of spring is when the lumenflowers grow - balconies full, and a vase on their dresser. they’re maria’s favorite, and pale like her hair. the hunting of beasts leaves both of them tired - and alyssa more so, the hunting of hunters. when she sleeps she dreams of families, and wakes up in an empty room with the haunting smell of blood.

 

she leaves a lumenflower with a corpse of each of her kills. she thinks it’s a fitting send off, in a way, some beauty in a world that they’re all ignoring is failing. that hunters go mad at all is the first step. the moon is up for too long, recently, and when she watches it it seems to become near-redder, blood spilling through the cobbles.

 

“it’s over,” maria says, one night, standing in that same courtyard they’d stood in in autumn, hearing a howl and watching a distant fire.

 

“it’s always been a matter of time,” is all alyssa can say, a smile and a swallow, a thought of the sins of hunters before and hunters that would come after - her hand seeks out maria’s, and she squeezes it, fearing beasthood and blood and  _ maria -  _ fearing her fate, their fate, the crumble of the church and their carefully organized workshops and secrets that surely never would’ve stayed hidden.

 

“of course.”

 

that night, alyssa braids flowers into maria’s hair, and neither of them expect the sun to rise again.

 

(it doesn’t, or, at least, not on the same world.)

**Author's Note:**

> dude imagine if i could understand a good timeline for bloodborne. i really can't even explain my OWN timeline views for bloodborne but if this clashes with yours: i am sorry, bloodborne timeline is fake  
> thank you for reading!


End file.
